


if you're prepared to adapt, you can transform

by leosiamajor, SapphireQueen



Series: Sorry,  love. Gotta save the world. [2]
Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Assassin!Erik, Charles You Slut, Charles is a Tease, Charles is a weird version of James Bond, Erik Being Cocky, Erik You Slut, Erik is a weirder version of a Bond Girl kind of not really, Erik is not a Happy Bunny, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, M/M, spy!Charles, this was supposed to be a pwp but it grew a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:10:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3477398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leosiamajor/pseuds/leosiamajor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireQueen/pseuds/SapphireQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Charles Xavier is sent in to track and take under custody of MI6 General William Stryker to investigate the plans he holds classified as 'The Weapon X Program'. What he didn't expect was the familiar face in the hotel bathroom wearing a lobby boy's uniform.<br/>-<br/>This is the Kingsmen inspired, but not really Kingsmen AU. So, basically, this is a Spy!AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you're prepared to adapt, you can transform

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a PWP but this monstrosity grew a plot.  
> Comments are very much appreciated, we worked very hard on this :)  
> Enjoy :D

In all of the things Erik had come to expect after completing his revenge, sudden, utter emptiness had not been not one of them. In retrospect, he had come to realize he should have expected that. Killing Shaw did not bring him fulfillment. Yes, the man was dead, but in place of revenge he had been left with nothing. Still, in the wake of the death of Sebastian Shaw, there had been little else to do but to put himself in to hiding. There had been the odd underling or two to take care of, but for the most part he had kept to himself, gathering his resources, trying to figure himself out. After eight months of self imposed isolation and self reflection, he had been left with only the conclusion that he had spent so much of his time preparing to dole out death, that perhaps that was what he should continue to do.

Killing for hire hadn’t been particularly fulfilling. Save for the death of Shaw, Erik had never really wanted to dole out pain or death to others. But it paid the bills, and truly, in that moment when he ended the lives of targets, he was able to relive that brief moment of fulfillment before his emptiness, for whenever he shot a target, he saw not their face, but Shaw's. Morbid, it most certainly was, but Erik didn't care.

His newest target hadn't been on his radar before he'd received the request. Stryker wasn't someone he'd paid much attention to though of course now that Erik was on his scent, the assassin knew everything there was to know about him from his preferred evening meal to his itinerary for the summit this weekend. It would make killing him easier. He would have preferred to do it in the man's hotel room but the client had been quite specific - shoot him during his speech. Erik could understand the dramatic display, and in a way he admired it. It would certainly make a statement, he thinks to himself as he slips into the hotel ballroom dressed in the uniform of the hotel staff. It is far too easy to move about when one is dressed as 'the help'.

Charles walked among the security guards, posing as one of them in a fine suit and well slicked hair. The plan had been simple, get Stryker, get his blueprints for the new Weapon X program that had been completely classified, plant a tracker chip, get out. The rest of the bloody thing would belong to MI6 and for M to decide, not that MacTaggert wasn't an efficient woman, it was just that Charles preferred not to get his hands dirty, at least if he could avoid it, he would. Charles always knew that being involved in this game would have to take some blood to spill but his time hadn't come yet and if he could play his cards right, it never would. Now, as he walks past Johnson and Briggs, he strolls into the bathroom, ready to call MI6 and tell them that the plan had been set in motion. What he didn't expect was the sight of a familiar face in a hotel staff's uniform.

The plan his employer had constructed for him was almost too cliche. Erik, for all he enjoyed a dramatic flair to things nearly rolled his eyes when he'd read over the proposal. A textbook assassination really, no originality to it all. Still, money was money, and this client had a lot of it. His eyes move to the best available spot for him when he finds himself distracted. Briefly he stares, baffled that he is seeing Agent Charles Xavier of all people. This couldn't be happening.

"If lady luck actually liked me I'd say this was a wonderful surprise," Charles quipped, grinning, taking a step closer. It's not that he never expected to see Erik Lehnsherr again, it's just that he never expected to see him this soon. "What are you doing here?"

"Finishing up my shift." Erik says in a bored tone. He knew Charles wouldn't buy it and frankly he wasn't interested in investing too much into a cover story, not with Xavier. "And you?" He asks, lifting a brow at him.

"Staying for a friend's wedding," He lies through his teeth, something he's terribly proud of. Frost had always said he was the best in that sort, and that was coming from a pro. "They booked the hotel for tomorrow, but I decided to check in earlier."

"Always thinking ahead." Erik comments. He has a feeling Charles' cover story is about as true as his is. Of course, Charles at least put a bit more effort into making his sound convincing. Erik certainly didn't care enough to. He checks his watch. "I should get back to work." He would have to keep an eye on Xavier that evening. He had to make sure the other man wasn't here to stop him. For all he knew he was.

"Don't let me keep you then," He says, moving aside the door. He should take Lehnsherr right now, handcuff him and turn him into MI6 for getting to Shaw before they did... but he was never one to be hung up on mistakes from the past. "Also, if it's any consolation, thank you for leaving us the information on the project."

Erik is nearly to the exit of the ballroom when Charles' last words get to him. He looks over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. "You're welcome." He says simply. "Enjoy the wedding tomorrow." He says with the faintest hint of a smile before he leaves, going to shed his uniform and hide away for the next few hours.

Charles smiles at his reflection as the door closed behind him. He would have to be careful, knowing Erik was here, for all he knew he could have been telling the truth and actually be working here now, but his hunch was itched and he knew that someone like Lehnsherr would never downgrade to lobby boy, so he'd have to be careful. He takes his phone out and contacts MI6, he reports. He decides to leave Lehnsherr out of it, no use in dragging something he has no clear answer to; he knew the minute he'd tell M that he was here, his plans would change and he didn't want that, besides, Stryker had to be detained. He hangs up and tidies himself, checking for the gun at the back of his suit. It wasn't until a few hours to the conference and Stryker was in a meeting, so he decides to take some time to himself and heads up to his room.

* * *

 

While Xavier very well could have been attending a wedding, Erik doesn’t believe in coincidences. No, it is far too coincidental that Charles was here on the same day that he is here on a job. Some might have called it paranoia. He called it survival. It is all too easy to slip into the hotel's computer system to look up the arrangements for that weekend. There is indeed a Charles Xavier staying in room 604 no less. But there isn’t a single wedding or any other event planned save for the summit and after party. That doesn’t surprise him even a little bit. He keeps to his own room for a bit of course, already having saved it under an alias. He needs answers and he is going to get them one way or another. Perhaps they'd get to have another interrogation after all.

It's at sundown when Charles was sitting in the balcony with a whisky in hand when he hears the beep. He checks his phone and notices that he's been emailed a rearrangement of plans of the Stryker conference, being moved to the next day; which was a shame because now Erik will know there was no wedding, which to be perfectly honest, never bothered him anyway, Lehnsherr was too smart to believe that anyway, but it nevertheless but a damper on his plans. He watches the sun set, contemplating on what to do next.

Erik wasn't one to become so anxious that he couldn't handle with things didn't go according to plan, but nothing irritated him so much as his carefully laid plans being put to waste. Knowing that Stryker's conference is going to be moved to the next day leaves him with idle hands, with an agitating need to /do/ something. He hates that, he really does. He supposes, glancing at his watch and making note of the time, that he can at the very least interrogate Xavier. The sooner he learns why the agent is here, the sooner he can get him out of the way.

Procuring a master key card is depressingly easy. Erik had often wondered how places like this functioned. It is far too simple to pull off any number of crimes. When he goes to Charles' room, he is dressed in his normal attire - a pair of more fitted slacks and a dark turtle neck - and this time, unlike their last meeting he is armed much better. With his cell phone, he calls the room in the hopes of providing a distraction to Xavier while he slipped inside.

His room phone rings and Charles is alert from the balcony, he stands up and checks the gun on his back, which he still has, and clocks the safety off. He carefully walks into his room and picks the phone and gently lays it on the table. Nobody should be calling him, he'd asked for complete animosity, no use from the staff. _Stryker knows I work for MI6,_ Is the first thing he thinks of. _He's sent someone to kill me._

Erik of course, has already pocketed his phone. That Charles won’t answer doesn't particularly surprise him. But he has taken the phone off the hook. That alone lets him know that Xavier is in the room and likely suspicious. This is perhaps the worst move he could have made ... Still, he'd committed and he is _not_ going to lose out on this job because Charles Xavier is here to stop him. His own gun is out as he walks into the room.

He hears the door open, the creak nearly echoing the silent room; he hides near the bathroom. Stryker wasn't the brightest target he'd ever encountered so he guesses whoever he sent couldn't be too fascinating either. At least, he hopes he isn't. He hears footsteps into the room and plants his back on the wall, taking his gun up. He takes a deep breath and steps out, surprised to have his gun pointing directly at the back of Erik's head. He grins in sick amusement. "Well, isn't this a nice stroll down memory lane?"

Remarkable really. Erik had always been confident in his abilities, sure. But he knows in that instant  that he'd let himself get cocky. He'd known more than Xavier last time. He'd held most of the cards, for all he'd been the one tied up. But now ...? He doesn't put his gun down in spite of the fact that he can near feel the barrel of Charles' gun starring the back of his head down. "What can I say?" He deadpans. "I'm a sucker for nostalgia."

"What do you want?" Charles asks, figuring it's better not to waste time. It's Erik is working for Stryker and here to kill him, he better move fast. "It's my understanding lobby boys shouldn't come into the room unless absolutely necessary."

"There's no wedding here tomorrow." Erik says flatly. He shifts a little, glancing at Charles over his shoulder though he is careful not to move too much. He doesn’t think Charles will shoot him but he isn’t sure a calculated risk is worth it here. "How did you know I'd be here?" There was little doubt in his mind that Charles and MI6 hadn't given up on his pursuit of Shaw after all.

"I didn't," He replies, lowering his gun down a bit, but not enough to give Erik confidence to move, he still didn't have answers. "Why are you here?"

"I'm working." Erik replies vaguely. It isn’t wrong. No, he didn't work for the hotel, but this was a job ... And in all fairness a few hours ago he had been preparing to end the job. But now that it had been extended he can’t help but wonder if that delay had to do with Charles, with MI6.

"How does that relate to you being in my room?" He asks, trying to be extremely careful with his words but somehow seeing no escape from this. If Erik was in fact hired by Stryker, he was going to talk, but if he wasn't, he didn't want Erik involved.

"I need to know why you're here." Erik clenches his jaw for a moment. He won’t give up his job of course, nor his client. He isn't stupid enough to do that, but he knows the drill already. He'd have to give Charles at least something.

"How am I being here is going to interfere with you working?" He says, picking the gun back up again. He didn't like this, he didn't like this one bit. The bareness, the proximity. "Unless we're here for more or less the same thing. Are you here to kill me, Erik?"

"No." Erik replied honestly. "Not if I don't have to." He hears the gun click in Charles' hand and stays still. "If you don't compromise my job, I don't have to."

"Define compromise," He says, a small huff of a laugh escaping from him. "You always seemed to have a way with words."

Erik snorts. "Stay out of my way." He remarks simply. "That defined enough for you?"

"Crystal," He replies. "But sadly, I can't. I have a job, same as you do."

Erik shakes his head. "I'd rather not kill you." He remarks. The agent had been a pain in his ass but ultimately had been intriguing to Erik. Killing him would be a shame.

"Hmm, likewise," His arm was getting tired, he saw no point to keep Erik here, but he couldn't just let him go either, last time he did that, MI6 arrived to a dead Sebastian Shaw. "What do you suggest we should do about this predicament?"

"You could start by putting your weapon down." Erik remarks simply. The temptation to turn, to try to take it is almost overwhelming but the probability of an accidental shot is too great.

Charles stays with the gun up. "And then? I can't just let you go, last time I did that I got in trouble."

"What then? Going to tie me up again, are you?" Erik asks, glancing over his shoulder at Charles.

"I see no reason for that, however tempting it sounds." He notices how Erik looks over his shoulder, but he doesn't flinch away.

"You're here for Stryker." Erik says simply. It is possible. It is also possible there is something else to Charles' being here, but it is safe enough to hazard a guess.

"Are you?," He replies, gripping the gun tighter. _Erik is going to kill him._

"Are you?" Erik repeats. There wasn't really hiding this from each other. They were both good at what they did, yes, but they were too smart to fall for each other's lies really. Why else would the both of them be here on such a weekend?

"I think you answered my question." He states. "And there's no use for this merry go round, so, yes, I am."

He can’t help but laugh then. "Well, isn't this funny. We really are going over the past again, aren't we?"

“Here's the main difference, though," Charles answers, putting the gun down, still alert as ever. "You don't have a personal vendetta this time, so why don't you let me just do my job?"

Erik rounds on him immediately. He doesn't put his weapon away. "Why not just let me do mine?" He asks similarly. "You'll get paid either way and I only get paid if there's a news report tomorrow evening."

"I can't have two incompetent jobs with your name on it, how do you think that makes me look?" He says looking at the gun. "You're not going to shoot me. You look like the type of man who would only shoot if I was armed and," He gestures to his hand. "I lowered mine."

Erik shrugs. Charles has a point. He doesn’t mind doling out death. It came with the job description and really, he wasn't good at much else. But senseless killing isn’t necessary. He isn’t a sadist. "So I put my weapon away. Then what? Nothing else will ensure you stay away from me." He remarks. "I need to finish this job."

"Stay out of each other's paths then," He states. "I don't know exactly what your job requires, although I have an idea, and you don't know mine."

"You aren't going to kill him." Erik points out. "That much is obvious. You plan to what ... talk to him? Threaten him? Take him in?"

"Classified information," Charles says, a bit of humor running through his voice. "You know this."

"Essentially nothing then." Erik rolls his eyes. "Useless, that's what you lot are." He doesn't feel one way or the other about Stryker's death, but he knows it won’t go well for him if he let this client down.

"I know you aren't a fan, but there's no need to insult our craft," He muses. "Let me take a wild guess. Whoever hired you-- because I assume you're here to kill him, aren't you?-- is probably someone who wants his head, but not for a noble reason, I assure you."

"I don't really care why he's wanted dead." Erik says simply. He finally lowers his weapon. Pointing their guns at one another obviously isn’t going to do a damn thing. "All I know is that he'd better be dead by tomorrow. I won't let you stop me."

"Get out of my room, Erik," Charles says, quickly growing tired of this. "I'll deal with you when I have to deal with you, I assume, but it's night and I'm exhausted, although I don't know how I'm going to sleep with you around with that swell little key over there."

"I'm sure you'll find a way." Erik has no intention of surrendering the master card. He has to make sure that Charles was out of his way tomorrow. He is willing to do whatever he has to do to ensure he can complete his mission.

"Good night, Erik." He enunciates one last time, showing to the door.

Erik lifts an eyebrow. Leaving was an option, yes, but once he left that room, there was no real way to keep tabs on Charles. There is no real way to ensure that the agent won’t call for reinforcements, or won’t do something to prevent Erik from accomplishing his goal. "Awfully dismissive for one who was so eager to spend time together before." He remarks airily. He folds his arms over his chest, deciding that keeping Charles here, distracting him, making sure he is within eyesight is his best strategy.

"I believe that worked out in mutual satisfaction, wouldn't you agree?" He comments, leaning his back on the wall and pushing his hands in his pockets. Two could play at this game, whatever it was. "This time around I don't gain anything if I let you do your job."

"Stryker can't do whatever it is he's doing that makes MI6 want to take him in and makes my client want him dead." Erik replied simply. "What's one more dead scum bag?" He points out. "And why do you care so much if they die?"

Erik was trying to get under his skin, to fester there and get him to crack. "We don't have full access to the information we need from him, we need it shut down. After that, I could give two shits about what happens to him."

Erik chuckles again, shaking his head. "How is it you all can't find out the most basic of things?" He asks, looking down at the shorter man. His tone is condescending but ... Well if he is going to keep himself here all night he is going to enjoy himself.

"Apparently our researches aren't as ' _talented_ ' as you are," Charles says sarcastically. "But it could also be the fact that Stryker, even though he isn't a bright man, has somewhat managed to keep under lock down the blueprints of the project I'm here to take. I bet even you in all your ' _glory_ ' don't know what it's about."

"All my glory?" Erik asks. "Oh, well I didn't know you thought so highly of me?" He can tell he was getting under Charles' skin and that just fuels him all the more .

His temper was boiling, which was a strange thing in it of itself, Charles usually didn't let people bother him, but Erik seemed to have a knack for it. "Don't flatter yourself, I'm trying to make you leave."

"By complimenting me?" Erik lifts an eyebrow at him. "You've got a strange way of getting rid of people." He remarks, leaning back against the wall, arms still folded over his chest.

"Maybe if I flatter you, your ego will inflate and you'll levitate out of here," He says, twisting his fists in his pockets. He knew he was losing his grip, he could feel it literally slipping from his hands.

"You know I can't leave." Erik says as though he were apologizing. He hardly feels sorry about it.

"I can't have you here, can't I?" He huffs. "So what? We'll stay up all night keeping tabs on each other?"

"I'm not as tired as you say you are." Erik remarks, feeling marginally triumphant in that. He hasn’t had a healthy sleeping pattern in some time. At least he knows he can go some time without decent sleep. He wonders how long the agent could last.

If Charles ever hated anyone in his life, it was Erik right at this second. "This is going to be dull as shit," He says, giving in. Why bother anyway? Erik had no intentions of leaving and there was no need to call in for unwanted attention, no matter how Charles wanted to see this, he was stuck in this room with him. He sighs. "Well make yourself home, I guess," He says, approximating the closet and taking a towel. "I'm going to take a shower, can I at least ask you to stay outside of the fucking bathroom or do you want to come in anyway?" He says, a dry attempt at sarcasm.

Erik shakes his head. "As enlightening of a performance as that might be..." He waves his hand to the bathroom, sitting in one of the chairs, his gun within easy reach.

Charles hums as he closes the door in a harsher slam than intended. He takes a deep breath and starts shaking off his clothes, he gets in the shower and lets the water running down his skin calm him down. _Fantastic, Charles. What kind of an agent are you if you can't get on the top of your game in regards to Lehnsherr._

Pushing Charles' buttons is far more enjoyable than it should be. Erik is taking pleasure in making him angry, and he wants to keep doing so. He wants to know how far he can push the agent. He had a feeling the result would be interesting.

Turning the shower off, Charles considers just walking around naked. If Erik was here to stay, he might as well have some fun. Possibly making one of the most serious men he knew crack, although he had showed some humor before, even if it was at his expense. He sighs, deciding against it. He dresses in black sweatpants and a white shirt he had intended to fall asleep in.

Erik watches him, eyebrows lifted. He doesn’t bother to hide his watching either. If Charles feels uncomfortable that isn’t his problem. He lifts a brow then when he's finished. "It really does bother you, doesn't it?" He asks. "That I continue to stand in your way. That I stand a chance of taking this job as well."

"Of course it bothers me," Charles says, taking a seat by the table. "The first time I let you go it was purely out of benefit for both of us,  but now there's no use for benefit here. It also bothers me that you have to keep watch on me, as if you won't take my word when I tell you I'll stay out of your way."

Erik rolls his eyes. "Trust in this line of work gets people killed." He reminds. He couldn't afford to trust Charles. He leans back in his seat. "Try not to act so depressed, will you? There's no reason we can't enjoy ourselves while I keep an eye on you. You could always let me fuck you." He snorts. Charles shouldn't make it so easy.

He was about to reply something arrogant, something smart and witty like: _Trust worked last time, didn't it?_ or I _'ll act as depressed as I want to, if it'll make you leave._ But the moment Erik's last sentence registered, all words died in his throat. He also snorted, which infuriated him, but it also gave him an upper hand. Erik was bluffing, he knew it and he would be lying to himself if he said he hadn't thought about the last time they say each other often. He grins. "You're the one keeping me under house arrest, so you'll do what I say, when I say it."

The change in expression surprises Erik but he won’t quite back down, not while he still is able to push those buttons. "Oh?" He asks, keeping the joke running.  "And what is it that you want me to do?" He chuckles. "Aside from leaving that is.”

Charles stood up and leaned against a wall. "Get on your knees and suck my cock," He says, looking out for any signs of surprise, if there was any, he couldn't tell. "That way your mouth is busy for a while."

Erik's eyebrows lift marginally. He can’t quite believe that his teasing has pushed further and Charles has called his bluff.  The sudden command in his voice speaks to something deep rooted in him and he fights not to shiver. He shifts in his chair. "Shouldn't there be a ' _please_ ' in there?"

"Oh, so now you want a please?" Charles crosses his arms. "No, you don't get that. You do what I say, when I say it."

Erik wonders how serious Charles is. If nothing else ... This could be fun. Right? It had worked out last time. He stands up and walks fluidly over to Charles. He looks down at the shorter man for a long moment. "So demanding." He remarks simply as he sinks to his knees.

"So willing," He smirks as he watches Erik sink down. "Pants off," He says, testing him. He knows that if Erik does do it, there's no going back. He'll go through with this... which as unprofessional as it was, Charles figures he deserves a reward from time to time and drinks are starting to lose their magic... getting control over Erik was much more of aphrodisiac.

"Mine or yours?" Erik asks archly. He reached up with his fingers to tuck into the waistband of Charles' sweatpants. He knows giving in could be dangerous. But while it could be dangerous ... Well ... It is also really fucking appealing. That doesn’t mean he was going to make it easy of course.

"I think you have that figured out," He answers, surprised at himself for not moaning at the moment Erik touched him. He'd forgotten how long it'd been,  how MI6 had surpassed his personal life and he longed to be touched, he wanted it. He was playing with fire and he didn't know whether he was ready to burn yet, but the flame called to him.

"Just clarifying." He grins up at Charles, still cheeky as ever. He tugs down the other man's sweatpants, eyeing his half hard cock. If Charles is just playing him, his cock hasn’t gotten the memo. He just smirks, fingers wrapping around his cock to stroke him slowly.

Biting his lower lip in order to keep himself steady as Erik's hand grip him. Oh god, he should feel embarrassed that he's already half hard, shouldn't he? But then he remembers he's in control of the situation,  which makes him have a burst of confidence. He jams a hand in Erik's hair-- soft as he remembers, how nice-- and grips. "Well?"

Erik groans quietly at the hand in his hair. There isn't much point in pretending it didn't arouse him. He did enjoy that. He lifts his eyes to watch Charles' face as he finally leans in and takes the head of his cock in to his mouth.

A shot of adrenaline of pure, undisclosed desire shot down Charles spine. His posture suffers a bit, but he somehow remains standing tall, the imposing man underneath him, kneeling for him. It's empowering; his chest starts heaving but he makes no sound. Erik's defying eyes haunting him, he grips his hair again. "Di-- Did I say you could look at me? " He manages to say with some authority.

Erik keeps his mouth open, taking more of the other man's cock in to his mouth. He makes a little sound in the back of his throat at the harsh tone of Charles' voice. He finds himself surprise as he obeys, looking away as Charles’ orders had implied.

"Mmm, you like being manhandled, don't you?" Charles says, picking up a bit more  force in his voice. He thrusts his hips up to Erik's mouth as slow as he can, still grabbing him by the top of his head. "Who would have thought?"

Erik doesn’t particularly want to answer. The answer is yes of course ... Not that he often would let his partners in on this fact. He just makes a little noise in the back of his throat and keeps his head bobbing. He rests his hands on Charles' hips to keep him from thrusting too much. He loves the hand in his hair honestly.

Charles threw his head back, enticing a low moan from his throat. Erik's mouth was driving him insane, when he makes low sounds from his throat, Charles feels the vibrations hit a thousand different places in his body at once. " _Ah_ ," It escapes, his shoulders slumping.

One hand leaves Charles' hips as he takes as much of the other man's cock in to his mouth as he can. His hand moves to stroke what he couldn't suck while at last he moves the other between his own legs to rub against the fabric of his trousers. He swallows hard, resisting the urge to bite down on his lower lip, stifling another moan.

Watching Erik fondle himself was more satisfying than Charles wanted to admit. A part of him wanted to be cruel, to be cold and ruthless, but he was never a bad lover; so he decides to go through a route he could enjoy, yet also be harsh. With his foot, he pats Erik's arm to stop stroking himself. "You don't get to come without my say so." He says, licking his lips.

Erik can’t help but pull off. "And if I do anyway?" He asks with defiance in his eyes. He leans in and takes Charles into his mouth again, bobbing his head up and down that much faster.

A louder moan came from Charles lips as he felt Erik's mouth around him, he huffs out a breath. "Fuck," says between clenched teeth. His eyes want to roll to the back of his head because this is one of the best blow jobs he's ever received and he sure as hell doesn't want him to stop, but Charles checks himself. _You're in control. Not him._ "If you do, then what's the point in fucking me?" He says, yanking at Erik's hair again, pushing him against his pelvis.

There is no snarky reply to be had. He groans when Charles pulls him in tight. Briefly he chokes, having to try to pull off before he can compose himself. Some might have been put off but Erik ... Well, he is only encouraged.

Smiling wickedly in triumph,  Charles softly yanks Erik from his cock, pulling his head up to look at him. He's content to see his face is red and flushed, his hair a mess, his eyes glossy.  "You've been a good boy," Charles whispers, thumbing Erik's lower lip, a trail of saliva still coating from his cock to Erik's mouth. "Tell me what you want and I'll see what we can do."

Erik's lips are swollen, wet from sucking Charles' cock so diligently. He groans quietly and pulls back, still held close by his hair. "I want to fuck you." He breathes out. He might have been content to suck away at Charles' cock all evening but he is aching and hard and sorely desperate to come.

"Take your trousers off," Charles demands, taking his shirt off. "Get on the bed," He looks through the drawers, finding a tube of lube-- thank god he brought one-- and a condom, courtesy of the hotel. He waits standing up for Erik to get on the bed as instructed.

Erik immediately gets to his feet knowing full well that going to the bed is going to be difficult. God is he hard, and he is damn near tripping over himself to get to the bed. He wrestles off his pants, laying back, watching Charles.

Climbing up to the bed, Charles looks at Erik's hard cock and allows himself this time to want it, to feel, to let for a couple of seconds his mask fall and let Erik know that as strange as this whole situation was, he _wanted_ him. He strokes Erik's cock once or twice, looking at him. "I should leave you like this," He says in a hushed tone, licking his lips. He buries his head in Erik's neck and licks before he starts biting softly, intending on marking him in some way. "Wanting, begging, tell me why I shouldn't. _Convince_ me."

The look Charles gives him lets him know all he needs to know. This is just a game - one they both very much enjoy playing. He groans quietly and pushes up in to the other man's hand. It had been a long time since he'd indulged in this ... Why not have fun now? “Please..." He groans. "Let me fuck you. We'll both feel good."

Charles hums, letting the vibrations pull on Erik's neck before he looks up. "Good," He says, giving Erik a couple of strokes. "But not good enough," He leans in and crashes his mouth against Erik's, using his tongue to part his lips.

Erik gasps against his mouth. He pushes up in to his hand, kissing him in return. His mouth opens beneath Charles' tongue slipping against his. Bending the agent over and fucking the hell out of him had been great fun but this ...He is enjoying this far more than he should be.

Breaking the kiss, Charles bites Erik's lower lip and looks at him. He takes the condom and starts rolling it down Erik's length-- and if he were to be honest with himself, he was eager-- but he managed to stay in the same facade he had up to now. "Beg me," Charles said, running a hand through Erik's hand, as his other hand rested on Erik's heaving chest. "Use that pretty little mouth of yours and beg me."

Erik hesitates for only a moment. "Please." He groans. "Please let me fuck you. I need to come." He begs softly. Begging seems a small price to pay for what he knows will come soon enough.

"Such a good boy," Charles teases, putting his thumb in Erik's mouth. Forcing it open. "We go at my speed,  alright?" He says, slowly pushing Erik into him, feeling Erik's hands grip Charles hips. "Nod if you understand that."

The urge to force Charles down on to his hips is almost overwhelming. But instead he keeps his hands there, stifling a moan as Charles lowered his body. He rolls his tongue over Charles' thumb, nodding his head slowly.

Taking a couple of seconds to get his body used to Erik's, he lets go of Erik's mouth and jaw and puts that hand on Erik's shoulder. He bites his lower lip and hisses in pleasure at the sensation of Erik's cock tearing him apart, such a sweet, indulgent pain, he exhales in a breathy moan. "Move slowly," He demands.

 **E** rik indulges him. He grips his hips tightly and slowly pushes up to meet the next time Charles moves down. He pulls out and pushes back up. He lays his head back against the pillows, moaning to himself. This is far better a way to spend the evening.

He finds his plan backfiring when he felt his body coil in desperate need for a harder, faster speed. But he wanted to torture Erik by giving him a long drag, to drive him to the brink of begging, truly begging him, to come. Charles moans and takes a deep breath, riding Erik as carefully as he could, trying not to give much enthusiasm,  but mere command.

Erik only had so much restraint when it came to matters such as this. His undeniable kink for being bossed about aside, he still had limits to how he could restrain himself. He grabs Charles' hips tighter still and starts thrusting upwards a little more quickly.

Flushed cheeks and with a mouth open in wordless groans, Charles somehow manages to speak. "I--I didn't tell you to speed up," He says, managing to look at Erik's hooded eyes. "Put me on my back and fuck me."

Charles' tone sends a shiver down his spine. He stops just long enough to pull out before grabbing those hips again and pushing Charles on to his back. Wordlessly he pushes back in, leaning over him, beginning to fuck him with renewed vigor.

Not bothering to hide his pleasure anymore, Charles moans as much as his body allows him, with every thrust and vicious slam of Erik's hips on his. He manages to lie there, legs spread, as Erik dives furiously into him. "Harder," He says, managing to get his short jagged nails on Erik's back, scratching.

A guttural moan leaves Erik's mouth as Charles scratches him. He is no doubt breaking skin and that only serves to drive him on. He fucks Charles harder still, lowering his head, pressing his face against the other man's neck. He know he isn’t going to last a whole lot longer though that previous order stays stuck in his head. _Don't come until I've told you to._

The room had to be shaking, or at least their bed was as Charles felt continuously pushed against the mattress, the headboard slamming against the wall. He feels Erik's hot breath on his neck and he closes his eyes, softly caressing the back of Erik's head. "Oh... oh... such a good lover," He moans, as Erik continues his ruthless pace. He wraps his legs around Erik's incredibly narrow waist. "You haven't come yet, so obedient," He says between thrusts, he nearly sees stars as Erik continues, his cock reaching Charles in the exact, perfect spot. "Ah… oh God, tell me... tell me what you want."

The praise affects him more than he would have cared to admit to. He groans quietly against Charles' neck. "Please." He gasps. "Let me come. I can't hold out much longer." He warns, knowing he'll come sooner rather than later regardless of what the other man said.

"Make me come first," Charles says, feeling one of Erik's hand snake to his cock. "After me, you can come. However you'd like."

Erik wraps his fingers around Charles' cock, stroking quickly as he begins to redouble his efforts to make Charles come. He is eager for his own orgasm … He’s desperate even, but he is driven to follow anyway. He thrusts harder still into him. The temptation to make Charles come from his cock alone is almost overwhelming but he isn't sure he can last so long.

He feels a blinding sensation behind his eyes as he closes them, and feels his body overwhelm with a quick shot of fire as he comes in Erik's grip, breathing heavily as his body grows more relaxed, languid as the tension eases.

Erik can’t hold back any longer. Barely seconds after Charles comes, Erik follows, gasping, pressing in to him one final time. His movements slow gradually until he stops, resting against the other man.

Feeling Erik's body on him was enough to remind Charles that whatever _this_ was, it was over now. He takes a while to only breath, to recharge as much as he can. "I don't know about you," He manages to say between a laugh and a breath. "But I'm exhausted."

Erik pulls out and pulls away, moving to discard the condom immediately. He closes his eyes for a moment, stretching. "Mm, yes." He admits. He is tired, though of course he'll still be keeping an eye on Charles. But at least they had found something to pass the time. He turns then, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. "You really fucked my back up." He remarks.

Charles watches Erik’s scratched back on the mirror and smiles. "One of my finest work yet," He grins. He sits up and scratches the back of his head. "There's some antibiotic in the bathroom's medicine cabinet, I could patch you up if you want," He says before he can stop himself, Charles had always been a generous lover, it was in his nature, no matter the person. "We should clean that too, I mean, I know you can do it for yourself,  but if you need anything..."

The offer catches Erik off guard. He had seldom experienced that from lovers or anyone else. Similarly he didn't reach out in that way either. It had always been far easier to pull away and leave. But right now he supposed he would have to be here awhile longer.

"I've got it." He says, though his tone isn’t as quickly dismissive as it normally would have been. "Thank you..." He adds, his tone one of uncertainty. He pulls his trousers back on before going in to the bathroom to patch his back up.

Charles expected that answer but found himself a bit disappointed anyway. The moment he hears the door shut, he lays on his back calmly,  taking in a deep breath. He should shower soon, he smells of Erik and sex and sweat and come, yet his body was so tired, his eyes felt heavy. He tosses to his side and feels his body slowly give in to the softness of the mattress. He finds himself slowly drifting to sleep.

Erik takes his time cleaning up his back. There is blood there, drying at the torn skin. A shiver runs down his spine and he feels a wave of arousal just looking at the tears in his skin. He swallows hard and continues his work. He is enjoying this far too much and he knows it. When he finishes he pulls his shirt on and moves back into the room, surprised to find Charles snoozing. He is even more surprised by his own surprise to take up a chair. He is quiet, seating himself there and leaning back comfortably. He would never have expected the evening to feel quite so comfortable.

Charles shifts a bit at the sound of a chair creaking, he opens one eye and smiles. "You know, you could just be get on the bed and be comfortable, it's not like I'm going anywhere for a while."

Erik knew he was a light enough sleeper that it would be hard for Charles to leave without waking him. He glances over at the other man for a long moment before reaching for his gun. "Alright." He remarks, going to lie on the other side of the bed. He leaned back, easing himself down on the mattress. "We do have a few hours." He reasoned.

"Put that away, you'll poke an eye out," He jokes, moving aside to leave Erik some room in the bed. "Sorry about the back."

"I'm not going to." Erik says earnestly. He shifts, choosing to lie on his side so he isn’t aggravating his back. He sets the gun beside him. "I assumed you did it out if enjoyment." He lifts an eyebrow. "Or punishment." He teases.

Charles huffs out a small laugh. "Both," He answers simply, lying on his eyes. His eyes slowly start falling. "Goodnight, Erik."

"Sadist." Erik remarks as if he wasn't guilty of blatant masochism. "Goodnight, Charles." He doesn’t have much intention of sleeping, but he finds himself drifting off, slowly losing himself to the battle of staying awake.

Charles never fully went to sleep until he heard Erik's soft snores, then he gradually falls asleep,  slowly and content.

* * *

 

It wasn't often Erik slept through the entire night. When nightmares didn't wake him, the smallest of sounds did. The room however, is quiet and he is too tired for dreams. When he wakes it is just after sunrise and a dim light is filtering through the curtains. He sits bolt upright, realizing at once he really had fallen asleep, and vulnerably so.

He hadn't expected that, not even around this agent.

Charles feels the bed move quickly and his instincts kick in, he opens his eyes and scans the room, he relaxes when he see Erik up. "Good morning," He says, scratching at his eyes.

"Morning." Erik replies. He glances around the room before running a hand through his hair, mussed by sleep and sex. He turns to look Charles over. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"Well... I guess you did. " He says, awkwardly sitting up. He puts his elbows on his knees and passes both hands through his hair. "Now what?"

Erik checks his watch. "There's two hours until the summit begins." He says simply. "Then I'll be out of your way, and I'll finish my job."

"Erik..." He tries in a vague attempt one more time to take control of the actual situation. "Give me two minutes and I'll explain to you why killing Stryker is a bad idea, and if you disagree, you can walk away and we'll deal with the consequences later."

Erik only just barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. "I don't care either way." He says, though he makes no move to leave the room. "I only know about him what my client provided. I'd rather not be out this fee, you know."

"How bad do you need this job anyway?" Charles asks, quickly shaking his head. "No, fuck it, doesn't matter. Erik, if Stryker dies, MI6 can't get into the Weapon X files and stop disasters from happening, disasters that could eventually affect you."

"That's awfully dramatic." Erik remarks though he does have to admit that Charles had caught his attention. "And what if those files were accessible once he was dead?" He lifts a brow. He was good at hacking, yes, but he was no computer genius. There were plenty of firewalls he couldn't get in to ... Hotel mainframes hardly counted as complex.

"We've tried that option," He sighs, letting his back fall against the headboard. "Apparently the way those files are decoded are in a cryptic manner that only he and an individual we've managed to identify as Bolivar Trask have access too."

"You know my client isn't going to be happy with me if I don't carry through with this assassination." He says simply. Erik isn’t desperate for the money, no, but he isn’t sure he wants the reputation for walking out on a job either.

"What if we 'killed you'?" He suggests, using air quotes, he feels rather childish doing it, but it's not like he has any dignity left, he's still naked underneath the covers and frankly, there's not much room for shame in this situation. "You don't necessarily have to walk out, just 'die'. Maybe lie low for a while. This is just a suggestion, though. If you have anything better, than by all means."

"It would come out sooner or later that I'm not dead and I've invested too much in to this identity." Erik shrugs. "I suppose you could 'detain' me." He thinks aloud. His employer won’t be happy but with MI6 involved there isn’t much his employer could complain about. Erik isn’t invested enough in killing this man to let it bother him as losing the chance to kill Shaw would have.

He perks an eyebrow up. "You're willing to go through with that?" He asks. "Do you want to know why we need the files so badly? It's the least I could give you; an explanation."

Erik tucks his gun back into the waistband of his pants and sits down. "Yes." He says. "What sort of catastrophes are you stopping?" He can’t help but sound amused.

"No need to be an ass about it," Charles rolls his eyes, thanking his luck. "There have been bombings in Uruguay recently that have been mostly near European, American or just all around important embassies, but when our researches were sent, we never found anything indicating it was a bomb-- only many dead people. Same thing in Iran, Kiev and Uzbekistan," He relaxes his legs and stretches them under the sheets. "A contact from Kiev sent us video footage of a local man walking into one of the most crowded places and just literally blowing up, his chest bursting with color until he burst and took all of the civilians with him." He takes a deep breath. "Resources say next target could be New York..." And there, his voice lowers. He isn't willing to tell Erik how he's worried for her sister, who lives there. How he wants not really to save the world, but to save her. He looks up.

The explanation catches Erik off guard. He ... supposes he hadn't been expecting something quite that drastic. There isn’t much to be said for making fun of that situation. "Oh I see ..." He wonders then if his client had personal stake in one of the attacks and that is the need for assassination. "And without his help you may not be able to stop this next attack."

"Yes," He says, sighing in what could be considered as relief. He looks around for his discarded trousers and manages to find them way too far away. He looks sheepishly at Erik. "Would you mind passing me that?" He signals, wanting to clear the sudden dour, dark tone the mood had gotten.

Erik can’t help but snort at that. He shifts, grabbing Charles' pants from where they'd been discarded the previous night. He hands them over, watching him for a long moment. "Awfully modest for someone who had no trouble ordering me to my knees last night."

"Awfully chatty for someone who had his mouth full," Charles grins, glad for the previous air to be cleared. He rather enjoys this back and forth that he has with Erik. He slips his sweatpants on and stands up, stretching fully.

"You'll need to make it look convincing." Erik warns. "If it looks like for any moment that I'm cooperating with MI6, I'm done for." He knows he'll lose work but worse, he very well might be putting his neck on the line.

"You seem to have a knack for enjoying pain," He winks. "But if it makes it any more convincing, you could hit me, we could fight for a while, make it look real enough."

Erik doesn’t bother to argue that point. They both know what really got to him when it came down to it. "Of course. It can't look like I went down without a fight." He smirks a little.

"Of course not," Charles smiles genuinely. "I wouldn't want your ego-- oh excuse me-- _reputation_ , bruised."

"Mm, as if you do not have an ego of your own." Erik remarks. He had enjoyed this back and forth with Charles more than he should have. It has been years since he'd allowed himself to connect with another human being and surprisingly enough he feels almost something akin to connection with Charles.

Charles smiles and walks past Erik, laughing softly. "Get out of my room, Erik, I'm taking a shower," He looks over his shoulder with a grin. "Unless you want to join me, I don't mind."

 **"** Tempting." Erik admits. "But I've got a job to get ready for." He reminds. "I need to be all set before the authorities catch me." He deadpans. He gets off the bed so that he can get to the door. "Upstairs where we met yesterday. A quarter past ten." He informs Charles. "Don't forget the handcuffs." He adds with a little smirk before slipping out the door.

“Wouldn't dream of it," Charles laughs, the sound of Erik shutting the door echoes in the room. He sighs and gets into the bathroom. "Showtime."

He closes and begins to prepare a course of action.


End file.
